Tempesta
by betalei
Summary: 8059. AU. A tale of castles and dragons and war. Yamamoto is a knight, and Gokudera is unattainable. I hate writing summaries :D


A/N: asdfhjk;asrjs;ekj I'M BAAAAAAACK

Well, since you're here, I'm going to assume that you've read my other 8059 fics. Whoohoo. Remember _Talk to Me_, _Lie to Me_, and _Sing to Me?_ Yeah, uh, and do you happen to remember the ending of that last one? _Sing to Me?_ Well okay... After I finished that one, I went back to working on the sequel I had in mind. The next installment in this... series... thing... I don't even know what it is. Oneshots. Something like that. Anyways the next part to everything is called _Whisper to Me_. Catchy, eh? Haha, er, yeah, about that... I got... about halfway through it, maybe less, and all of a sudden I had this ridiculous urge to go off and write a totally different story, one that had nothing to do whatsoever with what I've done previously, all because of this random paragraph I typed in _Whisper to Me_. I thought, sure, why not? It could be fun. I could add to it whenever I got tired with _Whisper to Me_. But... before I knew it, I already had like 30+ pages. D: I mean, what was I supposed to do? I was getting nowhere with _Whisper to Me_, I was losing motivation, and I kinda sorta really liked what I was doing with this new fic... T_T

Yeah I know, I know, I suck, but I wanted to submit something-anything, to let you guys know that I'm still alive and kicking, and doing my best (well okay that part's a lie) to deliver 8059 fanfics to all those lovely shippers out there. So... I'm really sorry about that sequel, I promise you I will be slaving over it whenever I get the chance (which will be rare because school insists on being a big fat bag of douche).

Hmm... oh right, you might see a few people who are OOC so I'm apologizing beforehand... I tried to make them true to their character but then I figured, different circumstances could change them, you know? So they're still who they are in the long run, just a little altered, like, not total opposites or... I don't even know where I'm going with this, did I have a point here? -_- Okay, well, take Shamal, for example. I feel like I pick on him a lot. Because this is like the bajillionth time I've made him... I dunno. Weird. Gah, anyways, this 8059 fic is going to be in a different style than my other ones, I was in an experimental mood. The setting is like... I really don't know, I made it up in my head but it's probably back in the day so imagine some medieval, Renaissance time period or something. Urk. Kings and queens and stuff like that. Uhhmmmm... What else was I going to say... Oh yeah

**WARNING:** The rating WILL go up later on. Trust me. I'll give you guys a heads up when that chapter comes rolling around or something though, so don't worry too much about that for now. Gokudera doesn't make an appearance for the first few chapters so he won't be here to cuss you out. ;)

I might tweak the formatting after this document is up, m'kay?

_Damn I wrote like a freaking monologue :x_

* * *

**Tempesta**

**-x-**

Chapter One

"_Haru-chan!_"

"Coming!" she yelled, tying the handkerchief tight around her head while dashing for the stairs. She hadn't the time to check her appearance as she usually did - she was running late because she had overslept, and her mistress would be wondering where she was. Haru slipped a bobby pin out of her apron so she could fasten her bangs as the clattering of pots and pans grew louder with her approach.

She had lost a considerable amount of weight since she had come to the castle, no doubt because of the errands she always ran for the cook, and it helped that the servant stairs were built small and steep. On the first day of work, Haru had had difficulty climbing up and down the flight of steps since they were too tiny for her feet to get a good purchase on and too high to take two at a time. Her legs would tire within several minutes; it was hard just walking to her destination. Still, she managed to get used to it after a while, to a point where she no longer took notice of the stairs at all and flitted above them like a stone skipping over water.

Tucking a lock of brown hair back behind her ear, Haru reached for her ponytail to check that it was secure before bursting through the kitchen doors. Her friend rushed forward expectantly.

"You're late!" Hana hissed, pressing a serving of food into her hands.

"I know!" Haru accepted the tray of assorted sweets, making a face. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress, she gripped the tray tightly, already moving for the exit until she spotted something crucial.

"The biscuits! You forgot the biscuits!"

Hana tossed four from a basket onto a delicate china plate and quickly lathered a generous amount of butter over them. Placing the plate onto a precarious corner of the tray, she shooed Haru out of the kitchen.

Haru hastily looked over the treats again, making sure everything was in its proper position. A variety of pastries stacked into a lovely little pyramid made her mouth water - she had skipped breakfast, and wished for nothing more than a loaf of bread coupled with some milk and honey - along with a tin of sugar cubes and a steaming pot of tea. The silverware was remarkably petite, folded neatly in embroidered napkins. Haru quickened her pace, eager to deliver the sweets to her mistress.

She was just taking a shortcut through the garden when suddenly, something solid caught her foot and she tripped over it with a very unladylike shriek. The tray flew out of her hand, catapulting the food across the dirt and grass and flinging plates onto the stones below. They shattered with an awful splintering sound, like icicles breaking, and Haru bruised her elbows on the rough pavement when she fell, causing tears to come to her eyes. The breath had been whapped out of her so hard it took a moment to discern which way was up or down.

Blinking rapidly, Haru coughed and wheezed, trying to make some recognizable sound, but all she could muster up was an extremely pathetic squeak that only infuriated her further. She looked at the ruined food, at the broken glass, and wanted to scream. She had never made a mistake like this before. If it was one thing she prided herself in, it was her ability to balance. Haru had never, not even once, dropped anything this important. She could blaze across the castle grounds carrying thirty-six glasses of water and not spill a drop. How could this have happened?

It took a few moments, but she managed to swallow her anger and crawl to her knees, wincing when they scraped against sharp pebbles and trying to dust off the front of her dress. Abruptly remembering, Haru turned to see what it was she had tripped over, vowing that if it happened to be a misplaced rock or some ludicrous plant, she would have a nice long chat with the gardener.

A scream lodged itself in her throat.

"H-hahi?" Haru yelped, twisting on her palms to scramble backwards.

It was… a foot. She had tripped over a foot. Once her heart had calmed down from the initial shock, she struggled to think. Surely it had to be attached to something? A foot couldn't just go traipsing about by itself. It did look rather lonely, protruding out from the bushes like that. Whomever it belonged to had it clad in an old, black boot, and it didn't seem like it intended to move anytime soon, which led her to suspect its owner might be dead. Frightened out of her wits but still terribly curious, Haru tentatively nudged the foot with the toe of her shoe. When nothing happened, she stood up, moistening her lips, speaking as loudly as she dared:

"Excuse me, Foot-san? Hello? A-are you alright?"

No answer.

Haru gulped and tiptoed nearer to the bushes. Steeling herself for whatever she might find, she parted the branches away and peeked through the opening.

* * *

"Kyoko-sama! Kyoko-sama!" Haru cried, sprinting to her lady's room as fast as her legs could take her. She flung open the door, bowing repeatedly to atone for the intrusion and attempting to inhale enormous swigs of air. Her knees were raw where she had skinned them, strands of hair sticking to her pale face.

Kyoko sat up in bed, alarmed. "Haru-chan? You're hurt! What's the matter?"

"There's someone in the garden!" Haru panted. "He looks like he's in trouble!"

Without hesitation, Kyoko sprang up, flinging back the sheets, and ran out in her nightgown.

"Hahi!" Haru grabbed her lady's overcoat and scurried after her. "Kyoko-sama! It is unseemly for someone like yourself - someone of your status, to be witnessed in such a manner - ah, Kyoko-sama, please wait!"

By the time she caught up to her lady, Kyoko was already kneeling beside the unconscious teenager, checking for a pulse and brushing twigs out of his raven hair.

"Thank goodness. He seems to be alright," the girl sighed, pleased. "Though I wonder how he managed to end up in the castle garden."

"That _is_ strange," Haru agreed timidly, then blanched. "Ah! W-what if he's an assassin?" she squealed. The maid valiantly thrust herself in front of Kyoko. "Danger, my lady! I will protect you!"

"What's this, now? Causing such a commotion in the morning."

A rugged-looking man walked down the path towards them, rubbing the back of his neck. He bowed his head in Kyoko's general direction. "Hello, little queen."

"Shamal," Kyoko said, and smiled grandly.

The doctor tangled a hand through locks of his thick hair, fingers combing back unruly tresses before he squatted down next to the boy. "Mm?" He glanced at Haru through a fringe of dark lashes. "What kind of garbage did you pick up today?" She fumbled for an answer but Kyoko beat her to it.

"Shall we take him in?" she asked, gazing worriedly at the fallen youth.

"If you wish," Shamal replied. He leaned over to take the forgotten coat out of Haru's arms, shook it out, and draped it across Kyoko's shoulders. "What would Tsuna say if he saw you in such a state?" he mused. Kyoko turned red. A laidback grin spread easily across the man's mouth, flowing like icing over cake.

"Haru-chan, take the little queen back to her room." He scrutinized the mess of food and broken plates several yards away. "And make sure to clean that up."

"Oh… Yes!" Haru bowed and quickly ushered her mistress indoors.

Shamal grunted as he lifted the boy onto his back. If it was up to him, he would have a policy to only treat ladies, but he figured he'd might as well check the unexpected guest as soon as he reached the castle. The queen seemed to like this youth. And he'd be damned if he wasn't curious about him, either. Hoisting his load up higher, the doctor wrinkled his nose. The boy had a faint scent enveloping him, a humid sort of aroma that came from the salty sea. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, but Shamal preferred the lighter, discreet perfume of courtesans and the like.

He reached the castle's side entrance and went in, nodding pleasantly to the guards. He climbed one flight of stairs before deciding the boy wasn't worth the sore back he would have later and turned a corner in the hall to run straight into Tsuna. He didn't notice at first, actually, and would have mistaken him for some courier-in-training had Tsuna not been so preoccupied that he collided headfirst with Shamal's stomach. His face hit the center of his abdomen with an unnecessary _oomph_ and he backed off at once, mortified, babbling apologies until he finally recognized the man.

"Shamal!"

The addressee nodded in response. Tsuna breathed a sigh of relief. "Kyoko-chan told me you w - " Tsuna froze, his eyes growing huge at the lifeless body draped across Shamal's shoulders. "Who is that?"

"Beats me."

"Eh?"

Shamal headed for the nearest empty room and Tsuna hurried to open the door for him. He watched as the doctor carefully lowered his patient onto the bed.

"Is he alright?" he asked.

"He's fine," Shamal assured him. "Just unconscious."

Tsuna wandered over to the window and stood a respectable distance from the boy, often taking fleeting peeks at him because he felt it would be rude to stare outright.

He had short, tousled hair and a face that appeared troubled amidst his dreams. Tsuna wondered who he was and what he had been through. He was wearing what resembled traveler's clothes. Someone in his past seemed to have been of royalty; he was handsome enough to make Tsuna feel slightly self-conscious and his fingers looked like they were meant to fit around the hilt of a sword, long and dexterous. Calluses were on the verge of forming on his palms - they befitted a warrior's hands.

"Looks about your age, doesn't he?" Shamal commented randomly, slouched in a nearby chair.

"Oh…" Tsuna nodded, though he stared at his reflection in the window, dubious.

A faint stirring on the bed and the brunette looked over anxiously.

The youth had revived. He took a moment to observe his surroundings, blinking steadily. His eyes were like drops of molten amber, rich and luxurious, and they brimmed with soul.

"Ah, you're awake, are you?" Shamal walked over and pressed two fingers to either side of the boy's neck, grazing palms below his jaw line. "Feeling okay?"

"Yes, I… I'm fine."

"Good, good." The doctor nodded absently. "What's your name, kid?"

The youth seemed unsure of himself but said, "Yamamoto Takeshi."

"Where are you from?"

His gaze clouded with confusion. "I don't… know."

Tsuna stared at the teen in concern and Shamal appeared slightly ill at ease.

"What about your family? Who are your parents?"

"I… I don't remember."

"Think harder. Do you remember anything? Anything at all?"

"No," Yamamoto answered. It made him feel bad because it felt like he was supposed to recall something, something important, but as soon as he tried remembering it was as if there was a boundary in his mind, a border line between his thoughts and the memories he lost. When he attempted to breach that margin, he ended up stepping into a frightening curtain of blackness that swallowed him whole. He stared at his lap. "I don't remember… anything."

Shamal shook his head, unsettled. It all seemed rather suspicious. "How old are you?"

"I'm not…" Yamamoto bit his lip. A number came to mind, floated to him from within the gloom like his name had, but was it right? "Fourteen," he said. "I'm fourteen."

"I thought you said you didn't remember anything," the doctor remarked.

Yamamoto was quiet.

Shamal's gaze remained indifferent but his voice had clouded somewhat. "Are you lying to me?"

Yamamoto wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say. What could convince this man, this stranger, this person he didn't know but suddenly had been thrust upon-that he was telling the truth? He had no ulterior motive; he was being completely honest. He opened his mouth to defend himself, to say anything, but was stopped by the dreary thought that perhaps he _did_ have reason to be suspected. He didn't even know who he was, what gave him the right to decide that he was no enemy to these people? Yamamoto pressed his lips together, discouraged, somehow getting the feeling that he was being cheated.

"Well?" Shamal prodded.

"I don't-" Tsuna said suddenly, and the abrupt silence that followed made him blush, but he continued in a softer voice: "I don't think he's lying."

Shamal turned, skeptical. "Why not?"

Yamamoto gazed at the brunette curiously. Tsuna was about to avert his eyes but then held his stare, determined. "I just… I can tell." There was a certain quality to his voice that seemed to be cemented in pure faith, like there was no choice other than to believe he was confident in himself because he _knew_, and no one could change that.

Shamal sighed. There was nothing much to do about it if the boy was not a threat. Though it was beyond him to unconditionally rely on Tsuna, he did have his moments. The young king was an uncannily accurate judge of character.

"You're leaving?" Tsuna asked in surprise as the doctor ambled towards the exit.

"I'm not needed here, am I?" Shamal shrugged.

"But what are… What am I supposed to - "

"You're the king. Do whatever you want."

Yamamoto glanced at the doe-eyed teen. _King?_

The door closed with an abrupt noise and left the room in silence. Tsuna stood there for a moment, awkwardly trying to decide what to should do. He wouldn't dream of kicking the youth out, of course not, but he wondered how to phrase his words in order for Yamamoto to understand that he was welcome here, and that Tsuna would like it very much if he stayed as a friend, not a guest, but he didn't want to come off as needy, either, and he couldn't demand that he stay for fear of being domineering… Eventually he turned and, avoiding eye contact, stuttered,

"You're welcome to stay - I mean I'd like it if you decided to stay here for a while, I-I mean if you have nowhere else to go - I mean if you want. To stay. Here."

There was a pregnant pause and Tsuna wilted a little at the bleak difference in volume. Then he heard a muffled sound and looked up to see Yamamoto laughing a little, lips curved, eyes brighter.

"I'd like that," he said. "I'd like that very much."

"Oh," was all Tsuna could say, cheering up, "that's good." The quiet seemed more companionable after that, as though they had reached an agreement of one accord.

"So what's your name?" Yamamoto asked. The boy started, as if taken by surprise. Then he smiled, nervous, shy, and stuck out his hand.

"I'm Tsuna."

* * *

_Eight Years Later  
_

Yamamoto Takeshi and Sawada Tsunayoshi. Two names that wouldn't be easily forgotten. Tsuna soon found that Yamamoto's personality was quite a turnaround from the first impression he had gotten. In fact, the youth seemed to be a genuinely happy character. He smiled a lot, befriended others, laughed at himself readily. He wasn't the sort to be bothered by problems. And maybe it was because he couldn't remember much in the first place, but Yamamoto habitually forgot things. A few weeks of living at the castle had cured his reluctance to speak, and tentative words soon gave way to long conversations that could last throughout the night. One was rarely seen without the other.

To put it simply, they had become good friends.

Tsuna had grown quite a bit, maturing into a refined young king, someone well acquainted with raising a realm. He was loved by the people for his kindness and compassion, and ruled with a gentle but firm hand. He unfailingly sought out justice wherever it could be found. Kyoko was equally gracious, playing the role of queen in a charming manner. They were very fond of each other.

Yamamoto rarely left Tsuna's side. He was a knight of the Vongola - the king's guard - having sworn allegiance to his best friend and relishing the duty because, in a way, he wanted to repay Tsuna for his faithful companionship over the years. When he first started training, his instructor had been delighted to find that Yamamoto possessed great skill with a sword. He was encouraged to try jousting, but he hadn't been all that enthused about its concept. He could charge and stab people with a blade if he wanted to, why trouble with other weaponry that performed the same task?

Nevertheless, that was how horses managed to pique Yamamoto's interest. He began lingering at the stables after tournaments, watching those majestic creatures toss their manes, admiring their unrelenting strength. This didn't go unnoticed. The following month, Tsuna had presented a foal to him for his sixteenth birthday, a sprightly little thing with coal eyes and splotches of brown that dappled her legs like mud. She shared her owner's curiosity and enjoyed causing mischief. Yamamoto called her Eva.

Yes, apart from Tsuna and Kyoko and the rest of the court, he treasured Eva the most. She was precious to him, a loyal partner who danced with his lead and sprouted wings when she ran, galloping over treacherous terrain without faltering. She was reliable and steadfast in both heart and mind, and Yamamoto never tired talking of her.

It was often joked that if Yamamoto ever found a spouse, Eva would no doubt come between them, given enough time. That in itself was almost all anyone needed to get a good reading on Yamamoto's romantic pursuits. He had never been intrigued by women (or men, for that matter) and, though he tried his best not to, always attracted wooers who had to be thwarted with polite refusals and sympathetic smiles. The number of fans he accumulated wasn't odd, seeing as Yamamoto had developed into a handsome gentleman. He was dedicated, passionate, and made for an ideal husband. Combined with the fact that he had yet to be married, Yamamoto's laidback disposition was considered appealing for a bachelor.

Dino urged him to settle down with a wife but Yamamoto laughed in that cheery, lighthearted intonation of his and convinced the advisor that he was fine with living on his own in the castle. Shamal offered to take him to a brothel to satisfy his needs, but Yamamoto flushed crimson and turned down the proposition before the doctor could even finish speaking. Kyoko would drop subtle hints as well, asking why such an eligible man like him rejected the throngs of beautiful ladies who came knocking at his door. Yamamoto only smiled and played along, laughed like he meant it, wondered why nobody realized that he was simply waiting for love.

He didn't know Haru had been pining for him for six years, didn't know she wrote letters to him everyday and then kept them crumpled up underneath her pillow because she was too scared to deliver them. Intuition had never been his area of expertise.

No, for all his experience in nature and battle, Yamamoto Takeshi was almost absurdly incapable of understanding certain things, things that others deemed simple enough to identify. Of course, this had never been an issue before. He was a knight. He fought to protect his king, to honor integrity. It was as easy as breathing.

"Tsuna," Yamamoto said (he had given up on referring to his title a long while ago), "what's the matter?"

The brunette gazed up at him from the desk and set down his quill, eyes smooth and sweet, his face a map that Yamamoto had learned how to decipher early on. He looked tired. Yamamoto thought of taking a seat in a nearby chair but refrained from doing so, for fear of leaving dirt stains. He had just come back from sparring and his skin glistened with sweat. He wiped most of it off his spirited features with the shirt that he was holding in his hands - it had ripped during the match and he figured he was better off not wearing it at all, unless he wanted people to think he was modeling a toga.

Tsuna sighed, soft as velvet.

"Should I send for some tea?" suggested Yamamoto.

"No, that's all right." Tsuna glanced at him again. He smiled. "You're allowed to sit, you know."

Yamamoto blinked, lashes batting like hummingbird wings. "Oh, it's just-"

"I'm sure you won't defile the cushions," Tsuna teased knowingly. "Go ahead. Sit. When you're standing like that it makes me feel like you're about to take off any second."

Yamamoto smiled and took a seat next to him. He kept his spine straight, making sure he didn't touch the back of the chair. Just to be safe.

"I haven't seen you outside the castle for the past week. What have you been up to?" he queried.

As if reminded of his fruitless endeavors, Tsuna stared out past the open window and sighed for the second time in the last minute. That was never a good sign. The youth was silent for a moment, his distant profile illustrating a troubled mood. "Yamamoto, can I ask you something?"

"Naturally."

A corner of Tsuna's mouth lifted at his friend's answer. "Look outside. What do you see?"

"I see children playing in the courtyard." Amusement laced the composition of Yamamoto's voice. "Oh, they're feeding the ravens. Then there's a young couple sitting by the water fountain. The gardener, trimming hedges… Mm, beyond that, I see nothing but a beautiful summer day."

"It's peaceful," Tsuna remarked quietly, "isn't it?"

"Yes." There was an incomprehensible hush afterwards, a stillness like a dream.

"And yet…" Yamamoto suddenly realized that Tsuna wasn't tired, he was sad. The king turned to confront his knight but Yamamoto felt that Tsuna was millions of miles away, and his words seemed to drop from his lips like overripe berries, landing on the floor with disturbing squelches. "My kingdom, my home, is on the brink of war."

* * *

A/N: The rest of the chapters will be slow to update, you can count on that. But hey, it was either this, or nothing at all. At least for like... another couple of months or so. I am not a patient person. Except sometimes. Well, I'm tired, I've got homework to do and history to study. Thanks for reading, I appreciate it. Reviews are welcome. :3

xoxo


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